The Constant Maid (Love Will Find Out the Way) · chunk 14 of 32
Shirley, James · published 1640 · first performed or written 1638 [1630(?)-1640] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T49 Wooing a mistress: suitors, go-betweens · 471 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T49: mistress, gentleman, love, lady, woman, pray, gentlewoman, hear, honest, way.
My mother, oh my fate, see me no more, And I'll forgive thee. Thank you, most sweet Lady, Is my discovery come to this? I'd better Ha'been tongue-tied; Curse me, and call me her sins, And see her no more? why this is worse and worse; I must suck better counsel from the Nurse. Fie, fie, I am ashamed of you, a Gentleman Of your high promising, and be put off So slightly? Why Nurse, what would you ha' me do? Do? I would have you do something; a man Of your ability, and cannot turn And wind a woman? You would not ha' wished me To ha' put her to't behind the hangings? You should ha' been round with her. I was round with her, I called her ass and coxcomb, And twenty more names, unless I should Ha' called her whore, I could not be more round with her. I do not mean that way. And she called me, I thank her. What? Why no worse than her sins, heaven forgive her, She has the more to answer; nay she did Not stick to bid me die too, in that desperate Estate. Come, you shall take another course. What ails my Masters sweet-heart, she frighted? I met and asked her for my Master, and She turned tail like a hound had lost the scent; There's something in the wind, my three piled worship Are you there with my Lady o'th' Larder, Now in that posture? do not they two look like A fine Brick house and a thatched barn in the Country, Laying their heads together? they ha' spied me. Come hither Close, nay he's faithful, and one that Has a desire to serve you; you may trust him. Your worship may trust me a-bed with— I Have had a itch this great while, sir, a kind Of longing to be one of your appurtenances: I have some faults, and I'll confess 'em; I have A humour now and then, when I am asked A question, to tell true, though I be chid for't; And I do not love blows; you may sooner beat My brains out, than a word of flattery: I cannot batten upon commendation, Without my wages, nor be valiant Upon small Beer; I am not overmuch Given to be drunk, but I've a trick o'th' Dutchman, To do your business as well drunk as sober: I have not impudence enough to pimp For you, but I have a gift I can say nothing: I was borne upon Shrove-Tuesday, and shall be Now and then given to rebellion: My flesh will once a year rise at a Chambermaid; If none such take me down, I shall in malice And deep revenge, fling out upon May-day, Among the Prentices, without fear or wit. I like this humour.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
My mother, oh my fate, see me no more, And Ile forgive thee. Thanke you, most sweet Lady, Is my discovery come to this? I'de better Ha'been tongue-ty'd; Curse me, and call me her sins, And see her no more? why this is worse and worse; I must suck better counsell from the Nurse. Fye, fie, I am asham'd of you, a Gentleman Of your high promising, and be put off So slightly? Why Nurse, what would you ha' me do? Do? I would have you do something; a man Of your ability, and cannot turne And winde a woman? You wo'd not ha' wish'd me To ha' put her to't behinde the hangings? You should ha' been round with her. I was round with her▪ I call'd her asse and coxcombe, And twenty more names, unlesse I should Ha' call'd her whore, I could not be more round with her. I do not mean that way. And she call'd me, I thank her. What? Why no worse than her sins, heaven forgive her, She has the more to answer; nay she did Not stick to bid me die too, in that desparate Estate. Come, you shall take another course. What ayles my Masters sweet-hert, she frighted? I met and askt her for my Master, and She turn'd tayle lik a hound had lost the scent; There's something in the winde, my three pil'd worship Are you there with my Lady o'th' Larder, Now in that posture? do not they two look like A fine Brick house and a thatched Barne in the Countrey, Laying their heads together? they ha' spied me. Come hither Close, nay he's faithfull, and one that Has a desire to serve you; you may trust him▪ Your worship may trust me a bed with— I Have had a itch this great while, si, a kinde Of longing to be one of your appurtenances: I have some faults, and I'll confesse 'em; I have A humour now and then, when I am ask'd A question, to tell true, though I be chid for't; And I do not love blowes; you may sooner beat My braines out, than a word of flattery: I cannot batten upon commendation, Without my wages, nor be valiant Upon small Beere; I am not overmuch Given to be drunke, but I've a tricke o'th Dutchman, To do your businesse as well drunke as sober: I have not impudence enough to pimpe For you, but I have a gift I can say nothing: I was borne upon Shrovetuesday, and shall be Now and then given to rebellion: My flesh will once a year rise at a Chamber-maid; If none such take me downe, I shall in malice And deep revenge, fling out upon May-day, Among the Prentices, without fear or wit. I like this humour.